he dragged up the steps like a dog with a limp, panting out of breath and a with keen sense of smell. @emrysvc so close─ seojoon can smell him, soft and warm, sage and thyme. and time, it was; time to pack on the defenses over his raw emotions.
just do it, sometimes he thinks. give in faster, why keep putting it off, but then he sneers at himself, eyes of tired hate as he looks himself in the mirror. he’s never, ever going to give up on himself and what he wants or stands for. it’s everyone elses’ job to give the fuck up on him. he can’t do it to himself, too. all he wants is to be normal, and if that means he stands his ground until he can’t anymore, over and over, he’ll never give up on this one thing.
he doesn’t rap knuckles on the door, just drops his forehead against wood with a loud thwack that resounds through his skull, eyes closed and palm pressed against it. “em? you in there baby?”
yes, is the answer. he can smell the life wafting through cracks in the door frame, a warm body that he aches to take upon his own. “i’d really like to come in. can i?” he mumbles, pushes himself to a stand and gathers himself as usual. it’s become easy over the years, fake it til you make it─ spine cranked straighter and lips curled into a smirk, he shoves hands into pockets and his resting expression is tired but clear enough. he’s not as close to the edge as he usually in when he drags himself like a ghost through em’s door. so it’s easier, but not by much.
